


Read-write Memory

by rkvian



Series: Honey Whiskey [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: 31 Days of Apex, 31 Days of Miraith, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rkvian/pseuds/rkvian
Summary: Wraith doesn't remember where she is or what happened. For someone who forgot decades of her life, it is a scary feeling to have.
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt & Wraith | Renee Blasey, Mirage | Elliott Witt/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Series: Honey Whiskey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811650
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Read-write Memory

**Author's Note:**

> i found out about 31 Days of Apex some five hours ago and knew i had to whip out something. it's 3AM in my country, but heck, it's still July 1 somewhere else.  
>   
> This is Day 01: Memory

There was a hand on her shoulder.

Wraith was sure she was in Mirage’s bar a moment ago, but she looked up and there was nothing but blinding white light. She squinted but that didn’t help. She tried saying something, but she couldn’t hear the sound of her own voice. The whole situation was bizarre in itself.

So, she pushed up, unaware that she had even fallen on her back. It was strange, the feeling of it reminding her of the time that she...

Fear bled into her stomach at the familiar set of stained glasses in front of her. She blinked and it was still there. She blinked again and moved to _get out_ but suddenly she can’t move and there are clasps on her arm and hand. She clenched her left fist to phase out, to move into another dimension and escape all this, but she looked down and her phase tech was gone.

She inhaled sharply, pushing her upper torso against the binding that was on her chest—that she didn’t know, that she didn’t notice before—and she growled against it because it was useless. Even worse, it felt like it was tightening the harder she struggled.

And then there was the hand on her left shoulder again, digging their fingers into her skin and she _screamed_.

Wraith snarled against the hand, and then there was another on her right, and another on her right arm, another on her left arm, on her neck, her chest, her thigh.

The blinding light made sense then—they were forcing her stay still. She didn’t hear a single word but she knew that’s what they were discussing.

Words like _hold her down_ , and _don’t let her go,_ and _sedate her._

A hand grabbed her bun from behind, pulled it tight in their fist until it hurt, and yanked her head back against the rest. She yelled something but it was lost on deaf ears, and then metal clamped into her face.

There’s a machine to her right that began to buzz, and the contraption holding the light lowered down with a needle to her eye. Voiceless and petrified, there really was nothing she could do but bear it.

Singh’s voice echoed around her, cruel and maniac, _You’re never really free_.

And she—

And she pushed up to her elbow. The surroundings changed, but there was still someone hovering over her, holding her shoulder and trying to lower her back down to…bed.

What?

She’s on a bed. On light brown comforter and feather soft pillows. Her eyes flickered to the right and it’s night time. There are no blinding white lights, but there are blinking neon ones. There is a river there. A bridge stretched from a distance, vehicles, and there were people moving beneath towering buildings. Her eyes turned back to the man in front of her. He’s saying something but she can’t hear beyond the wild rush of adrenaline in her ears. She opened her lips to tell him—but nothing.

“—down. Breathe, Wraith. Breathe.”

She didn’t know where she is, didn’t know what’s going on, but she knew those eyes and that curly hair, the beard and his scars, and she _trusts_ him.

And so, she did. She swallowed mouthfuls of air, one after another, and she didn’t stop until the world widened a little to him sitting down next to her.

“No—no,” He said which confused her. He looked calm but his voice betrays it, “You’re starting to hypervel—hyperven—breathe with me.”

She made a noise, somewhere between fear and anger and sadness. Wraith can see the blue-green walls of the lab behind him—was he betraying her? Was he waiting for the perfect moment, for her to lower her guard and snatch her back into—but all the thoughts faded when his hands brushed her hair away from her face and pressed against her cheeks.

“You can do it.” He said, “See?”

She stopped and watched him inhale, his chest puffing. He held it in and exhaled at the space between them.

“See? I can do it.” He repeated the motion, “Now, it’s your turn.”

She sobbed and she’s afraid, _Now, it’s your turn_. Someone told her that years ago, and she left her to die. Currently it’s him telling her that, and she’s stronger now. She inhaled with him, and exhaled with him.

He rubbed his thumb against her cheek, “There we go.”

It’s Mirage.

And suddenly it’s okay if she didn’t know where she was, because it’s Mirage. Somehow, in a way she couldn’t explain to herself, that was enough.

“I was there again.” She told him, her voice a rasp in her throat. “In the lab below King’s Canyon. I was there a while ago, and h—oh my god. Oh my god.”

“It’s okay.” He said, “You’re safe now.”

She wished he would let her go now. He wasn’t supposed to see her like this. It wasn’t until she felt the muscles on his hand flex that she realized she was holding on to his wrists. That _she_ was the one holding on to him.

Wraith flinched at the realization, pulling back herself back. “Sorry. I didn’t—sorry.” A sharp jolt on her torso made her stop.

“It’s alright.” Mirage smiled at that, although there’s no usual humor in the tone of his voice, “Water?”

“Yes, please.”

He rose from the bed to the desk in the corner of the room. Wraith pressed a hand to the throbbing in her head, hoping it would stop. He had no blue-green walls. He had grey ones. His desk is covered in what seemed to be holotech devices, several drivers and machines. On the other side of the room, there is a mirror, surrounded by his pictures and fan arts of him. A black couch, two doors, and she thinks she already know the answer but she asked anyway, “Where am I?”

_Safe._

“My room. Bar’s downstairs.” He offered her the glass of water, and she chugged all of it.

When she lowered the glass to the nightstand, she noticed her phase tech and kunai, and the Wingman she’s taken to carrying around. She blinked back down to herself and found her dressed in loose black shirt, her pants and her socks.

“Did we…?”

“Did we what?” Mirage’s eyes furrowed and he tilted his head.

It was comical when the realization clicked, and his voice rose when he said, “ _No,_ ” his eyes widening and his lips falling open. “we didn’t. It was—uh—no. We didn’t—wait, I already said that. Nothing happened. It was Ajay and Nat, they were the ones that took off your—” He raised his palms in the air, “I didn’t touch you, I swear.”

“Then what?” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, frustration bleeding into the force of it. Panic edged into her voice when she said, “I can’t remember.”

“Apparently, someone was still injured and didn’t bother telling anyone.”

“I had it under control.” That was a reflex answer.

“You obviously didn’t.”

Wraith looked up at the change of tone in his voice, and Mirage stared back at her with his hands on his hips. It was the bout of rarity in him, the stern and mature Elliott Witt she doubted people saw often.

“It was just a bruised lung.” The memories returned at the answer. She was executed. She queued with Caustic and Octane and they won the Game, but she still died. The medical personnel told her to stay the night in the Apex Compound’s Medbay, and she opted not to when she found out her friends were going to celebrate the win. She tagged along with them instead. It couldn’t be that bad if she was cleared to go out. Guess not. “There was nothing anyone could have done anyway. I just needed rest.”

“I know. Overfatigue too.” He let out a snort, “Path and Ajay were upset they didn’t notice immediately. Why didn’t you rest?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Wraith didn’t know why, but his eyes softened. He looked like he wanted to say something, and she didn’t really want to hear it right now. _Emotions_. Honesty. What would she even do with it? She swung her legs off his bed, the blanket tangling between her legs.

“Wait, what are you—”

She was able to push herself on one foot before vertigo hit her.

Her vision swam, her jaw clenching. He’s by her side in a blink, wrapping her arm around him to keep her upright, “You should stay the night.”

“I have my own place, Mirage.”

“Ajay said to keep you here because you aren’t well enough—”

“You can’t keep me in your bed.”

Wraith snapped her mouth shut. For the first time that night, she became very aware of their proximity and the owner of the shirt she’s wearing. She licked her lips skittishly, and his eyes darted down to watch it. The intensity in his eyes, well, damn it, that didn’t help. She nudged his back and he let her go, breaking whatever tension that was.

He cleared his throat.

“Well, that came out wrong.” The Trickster paused, “Oh crap that too. I didn’t—I meant—yeah nevermind. I’m just gonna go…” Mirage pointed his thumb to the door, walking backwards, “…prepare the bar ledgers for my annal— _annual_ —I meant annual—”

Her lips twitched amusedly.

“Annual, uh, thing.” He gestured back at her. “Wraith?”

She took a step towards the nightstand, but felt another hit of vertigo hard enough to be self-aware she’s swaying on her feet. That decided the course of action. She might be a stubborn hard-ass, but she wasn’t stupid enough to wander Solace at night in this condition.

“Yeah,” Wraith bit out, eating a little bit of pride when she sat back down and leaned her head against his stuffed pillows and headboard. “I think I’m staying.”

“Oh, good.” He grinned, “Success. I have loads of other rooms in the bar but this is the cleanest room I can offer. Wait, _hold up._ ” He frowned at himself. “Was that a self-burn? That felt like a self-burn.” He waved his hands from one side to the other, “That don’t mean I ain’t getting any actions, I do, I just—you know what forget it. I’m just gonna shut my mouth before I—”

“Hey,” She said, breaking off his rambling, “Thanks.”

Mirage stopped and smiled, a little closer to the one he always gives her when he comes up with something insane, “Anything for the squad, y’know?”

Wraith sank back completely into the bed, staying on top of the tangled sheets. Her eyes felt heavy and tired, but her mind was awake. She watched Mirage turn around and walk towards the door, and she traced his scarf and fit black shirt with sleeves to the middle of his forearm. It looked great on him. Maybe that was why he wore the style of it often.

Before he could open the door, he stayed.

He exhaled audibly and looked back at her, “You want to talk about it?”

_That_ made her heart forget a beat, and she quickly looked away to the window. Wraith had never told anyone what happened. Not one soul. It wasn’t because she was scared of what people would think, or that she’s afraid the people responsible in this dimension her would find her again. It just wasn’t the kind of thing you tell someone else. The entirety of it isn’t a bitter recollection, it is a burden.

But she always remember the other her, the one who should be living in this dimension if she died that day, in that room. Wraith knew it was wrong to keep the sacrifice to herself, when the people around her could have known an entirely different person instead. Someone else deserves to know about her, if not the experimentation.

Still, she asked, “Don’t you have anything else to do?”

Mirage’s smiling again. “I think this is more important than a couple of ledgers.” He moved towards his desk and sat at the chair, turning it to face the windows. A small mercy, knowing he wasn't going to watch her.

“Well, it’s not very exciting.” She trailed off, rubbing her left arm where she slotted the phase tech five years ago. “And I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay.” He said, “You can start anywhere you like.”

The first time they strapped her into the chair? The first time she felt the needles lodge into her eyes? How about the first time she heard the Voices? He said anywhere, and right now, the memories weren’t as dreadful. Because that’s what they all were: memories. 

“I was in the lab. You’ve seen it right? It was in King’s Canyon…”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! :)♡


End file.
